The Rites of Spring
by choke
Summary: A collection of smutty one-shots featuring the Basterds, their SS foes and their women.
1. Chapter 01: Donny

**Authorial Note(s): **Honestly, this is nothing just something written for a friend who asked - thought you all might as well reap the benefits and maybe the RSS feed for this category would move just a bit. All things in this collection is straight up smut so oh shit ya'll, can you handle that? Anyway, if I get around to uploading the rest they are all unconnected pieces. I would hope you are all clearly aware what smut is, that is why this is in the _mature_ section.

**Edited**: 05/23/10

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**The Rites of Spring  
Title: **_Death of Me_**  
Length**: 5 pages, 2112 words.  
**Characters**: Donny Donowitz / Original Female

Elena Howlett had taken it upon herself not to think beyond hours. In a life that could be snuffed out as easily as a candle, it was understandable. Every footstep was a dance with danger, with the floor made up sharpens knives. Plans were pointless; staying alive was as good as it got for her. From her small subdivision of the French Resistance to her accidental joining with the Basterds, every step of her dangerous dance had led her to this moment. To her being in the basement of some godforsaken tavern, to Wilhelm Wicki's warm dead corpse on top of her lower half.

Even in the face of death he had been a gentleman.

The stone floor of the tavern bit into her back as her mind fought to catch up with what had happened. The basement had become eerily silent by then; the last gunshot still ringing heavily in her ears. She could feel Wicki's blood staining the dress she had been forced into wearing, it had become just another reminder that the whole meeting had gone sour. The heavy smell of sulfur mingled with the well known iron scent of blood.

"…is anybody alive on our side?" It was with near muted ears that she barely heard Aldo's voice.

"I'm alive!"

The actress. _Of course_, Elena thought, _there would be no true justice._

"…Me."

Through her haze she barely voiced her answered to Aldo while on the fringe of her consciousness could hear voices - German and American alike - arguing. Trying to come to an agreement though she couldn't concentrate on their words, everything hurt. Her ribs felt bruised, though luckily not broken, and while she struggled to pull herself into a sitting position without disturbing anything, she could see Bridget von Hammersmark sit up as well.

Soon enough the voices stopped all together, replaced with the sound of a single gunshot. From her vantage point she could clearly see Hammersmark, arm out stretched with small pistol smoking. With seconds two massive hands gripped her forearms, yanking her none too gentle to her feet and tugging her bloodied from into a large chest. Her head swam from the sudden series of jarring movements, so much Elena could barely make out the blobbed form before. Pale skin, large wide shoulders and dark, clean cut hair. Donny Donowitz. Before she was even aware of it, they had emptied out of the tavern and left the bodies of the two fallen Basterds behind.

Everything from how she got from the basement tavern to her current position was a haze. The Lieutenant's suspicions and Hammersmark's new information – Hitler to be present at the premiere, all the men that needed to be taken out together. All of them in one place, in Paris at some no name cinema, all waiting to be taken out if Operation Kino went right in spite of all that gone wrong. But none of that explained her current situation, pressed with against the only man left who instilled fear in the German army with a simple name: the Bear Jew. Though Elena knew him simply as Donny Donowitz, she knew he had been aptly given his nickname of a bear. He was tall, towering over her a good couple inches with broad shoulders and broad muscled back. None of his features were surprising to Elena though, he had to have the physical strength to crush skulls by use of a wooden bat somehow. In comparison he could snap her small bird-like bones like a twig within seconds.

There were no words spoken between them, though there never were and they weren't needed; especially when Donny almost snapped her wrist from pulling her into the bathroom, tossing her into the wall. His mouth latched onto her neck with what could only be described by Elena as vampiric gusto. Suckling at the rapidly beating pulse point his tongue lashed out to needle the throbbing vein as Elena's dried blood stained hands twisted in his dark mane. As her nails dug into his scalp, Donny easily lifted her by her thighs to cradle her hips against his own, pressing her heavily into the wall. He moved on from her throat soon after, the skin littered with pink and red marks from his teeth before drifting towards her ear to bite her earlobe.

"This isn't gonna be over quickly, sweetheart" He growled, his voice sending delicious if not, anticipatory shivers down her spine.

Even if she had wanted to, Elena wouldn't have been able to respond before Donny's mouth descended upon her own, teeth clashing against teeth, pulling lips. His need was agonizing as her low pouts and throaty moans floated in the room. As his fingers caressed her in such an intimate way it drove his urgency to notches Donny hadn't thought even existed. The kisses from him were possessive, demanding and taking everything; stealing in her mouth, tongue plundering to take vengeance of everything in its path. Though Elena was no passive partner, she fought to duel his dominant tongue, trying in vain to tame his obsessive muscle with her own. As she fought hard for dominance, it seemed that every time she took a breath she inhaled his scent. It penetrated her senses, driving her mad allowing a moan or a whimper to escape her throat unabashed. Hands are had been busy grasping his face slid down to clasp broad muscled shoulders, marveling at the wide expanse in comparison to her delicate hands.

As Donny pressed her form harder into the wall - practically making her part of the decor - his fingers trailed a heated path from her breast to hip before digging into her flesh, only serving to elicit a heady moan from the woman beneath him. His already precarious control was ready to snap, as it had been since yanking Elena's prone form from the tavern floor. His mouth continued to attack her own in a savage kiss as his hands moved south from her hips to the slit of her bloodied dress. Keeping her pressed into the wall, Donny's fingers traced along her inner thigh, edging and stroking _just_ out of reach. His lips moved from her own sliding up her cheek, trailing to her ear with heavy breathing.

"You're so wet, sweetheart. Is all this for me?" He taunted, his voice husky and hitting that masterful timbre that just seemed to make Elena lose all coherent thought. While she sought to find a response but she could only take a sharp breath as his calloused fingers danced over throbbing places. Her back arched, straining against Donny's hold as liquid fire consumed her and only continued to grow as he ignored her vocal begging.

"Mmmm I'll take that as a yes," He rasped against her ear before sliding down to bite her erratic pulse. Elena's smooth skin, despite being bloodied and sweated, still released a scent that hinted at vanilla and lavender. At a crawl of apace, Donny's hands moved away from her inner thigh to force Elena to wrap her legs tightly around his waist. Roughly he moved their pressed bodies from the wall to the closed room door while Elena gasped, a look of surprise overcoming her face - at the rip that echoed through the room and the somewhat fragmented thought of when exactly he had gotten his own pants down?

"_Now_, Elena." Donny snarled against her mouth, holding his body back for a moment longer before viciously seeming to spear her into the wall. A loud cry ripped from deep within her throat though it was muffled by Donny's own mouth swallowing it in the form of another possessive kiss. Lost in the cadence he himself had set, it was one of made up of violent slams and vicious pumps. While her body had been given little to no time to adjust at his sudden invasion, to her embarrassment, it felt wonderful. Donny gave a devious smirk before speaking in somewhat of his condescending yet still caring tone, "There we go."

Her nails dug into Donny's broad shoulders, piercing the skin not covered by his white beater, creating small crescent moons across his back as her grip shifted. Shivers and small almost uncontrollable tremors wracked their way down her back to pool at the base of her spine. One hand slipped from her hip to mid back, forcing her to arch even, the angle that should have been painful was anything but. Ripping her mouth from her lips Elena buried her face into his neck, her teeth sinking into his flesh while her hands grasped at his form in some urgent need to be grounded.

"Jesus," Elena rasped out as his last thrust hit a particularly erogenous point. "Christ."

Each movement was rough, his hands dug into her skin bruising easily as the sound of her satisfaction fueled his need. As he felt her warm, erratic breath against his neck he pulled back, forcing Elena back against the wall to see her fully. His look was smoldering as he possessed her fully with his gaze; the way her body moved while still encased in the bloodied black dress that skirt bunched around her waist, the way her neck seemed to carry all the red bite marks he had made and not beyond his scope was the way her face seemed flushed.

Elena's fingers dug deep into the rock hard muscles of Donny's biceps while the tremors racked her body. Her scream was swallowed whole by his mouth once again devouring her own, his own groan vibrating from deep within his chest as Elena's legs tightened around his waist. Their bodies seemed to spasm, hearts skipping a beat while both their grips on one another tightened then lacked as they calmed. Donny, with labored breathing, buried his face in the crook of her neck while his heartbeat drummed like a mantra in his ears. A thin sheet of perspiration had covered his body from the physical exertion of the last few moments, forcing his white beater to cling as if it were a second skin. Elena's legs weakened their hold around his waist as they both fought to regain themselves.

Neither spoke a word, their breathing the only sound filling the bathroom, labored as if they had sprinted for their lives. Elena's arms had slowly found their way around Donny's neck, while his lips kissed her neck softly. In a sporadic pattern he moved, stopping only to nip and suckle at the already abused skin before moving to trail along her jaw to her lips. Her hands were still bloodied, soiled from their fallen comrades, as were her dress and legs. It was unknown just how long they stayed in their place, slouched against the door breathing each other in, but it was Elena's questioning voice that broke their false, self-made lull of peace.

"…We're probably going to die, yeah?"

"You almost died tonight," He grumbled against her lips.

"That isn't what I asked Donowitz," She bit back, pulling his face away from her own. The sudden movement sent tremors through her still overly sensitive nerves, forcing her to release somewhat of a whimper, tighten her legs. Neither said anything after that, they simply looked at each other for a moment, each struggling.

"No," Donny conceded to her. "We won't"

He sounded as if he believed the words, but as they passed his lips a sour taste remained in his mouth. They both knew it was a lie; their deaths were the only thing certain in the coming days.

_FIN._


	2. Chapter 02: Hugo

**Authorial Note(s)** : It took a rather long time but I finally got around to uploading this piece. Thanks a lot to following reviewers LadyTilBug, Spontaneity, x . eTak. x and sweetypie15.

Enjoy? Next update will include Hellstrom.

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**Rites of Spring**  
**Title**: _Spider's Web_  
**Length**: 5 pages, 2095 words  
**Characters**: Hugo Stiglitz / Original Female

Adelaide Devereaux's back thudded almost painfully against the wall in the shadowed room they'd entered. The sharp sting that flashed through her consciousness and down her spine was quickly forgotten thanks to the strong male form pressed against her. A knee slid along her legs, settling between her thighs allowing his hips to set flushed against her own. With hands like claws, calloused and gun worn fingers dug into her mass of thick hair. Yanking, and angling her head for better access to her mouth.

In the darkness their mouths melded in some bizarre fight for dominance: teeth clashing, scraping lips and pulling. In the end though, it was she that was left with the swollen lips. As his hands slid from her hair to lazily trace her spine her body arched into him while her head falling against the wall weakly. His lips moved south, kissing her exposed neck that had been offered up carelessly, suckling and biting as he pleased. His teeth scrapped their way down her neck, leaving a steady streak of red in its path while his fingers moved to her hips, digging into the flesh.

It was odd, Adelaide thought, that a man like Hugo Stiglitz would treat her so fine, as if she was made of glass.

All too suddenly the warm mouth on her throat was gone, causing a whimper to bubble in her throat as Hugo stood before her, arms braced on the wall. As Adelaide gazed up through thick eyelashes, she watched as something akin to a smirk – but darker, so much darker – crossed Hugo's usually stony face. Deviously he bowed to her level, his face besides her own, silently taking in her flushed appearance with his own glazed eyes. And his eyes – God, Hugo's eyes – Adelaide was certain something very dark had crossed in them, something menacing and yet, incredibly beautiful lurked.

Her small nimble hands ran up his shoulders to the back of his neck, trying to urge his head to move, for his mouth to go back to its previous activity. Hugo moved not an inch, his mouth quirking only slightly as another whimper escaped from Adelaide's throat. Calloused fingers gripped her fact, seizing her in a gentle grip. Caressing her cheek softly while his thumb traced and parted her lips to feel the contours, the dents, his teeth had left in the tender skin from being rough. His touch though, only made the frustration she felt worse; she was on fire, everything was burning from the inside out.

Hugo's gaze caught her own, his eyes not-quite as green as he dripped down, closing his mouth over the abused lower lip. His tongue soothed over them delightfully before gliding back up, sliding into her mouth in one fluid motion. Once again, teeth clashed against teeth, Adelaide's own biting down on his own lower lip though Hugo only groaned as the taste of cooper filled both their senses. He deepened the kiss even as blood slipped from the corner of his mouth, walking from the wall, hip to hip, back towards the bed. The mattress and sheets were soft, and as they dropped to the bed, Hugo's tongue followed the smeared trail of blood around Adelaide's lips as his body loomed over her own. While one hand traveled up from the back of her knee to thigh, removing her knickers and dropping them absentmindedly.

Hastily, Adelaide's quivering fingers reached down to tug at the buckle of his uniform while groaning into his mouth. Reaching down with one hand to help her, Hugo refused to part from her lips as the other anchored itself on her collarbone. The buckle and zipper came undone easily enough, bunching around his hips as he stooped to nibble at the underside of her jaw, speaking between bites.

"You won't be able to walk when I'm through with you," He grumbled, his voice rumbling in his chest as he rocked against her hard. His German accent was heavy on his English, noticeable and thick. Still trembling fingers teased the skin just above his hips, trailing along his lower abs and groaning delightfully as the contours of his body jumped under her touch.

Watching the desire grow in her eyes, Hugo chuckled darkly as he smashed his mouth against hers, one hand palming a breast through her dress and squeezing hard enough to make Adelaide gasp. As his lips, plump and warm, parted her own, her fingertips followed the path mapped out by the 'V' of muscle along his hips.

"I'll be honest with you," Hugo growled against her lips as he bunched her dress up around her hips while his hands moved her legs around his hips, "this time is going to be hard, fast; but after that, I'm going to memorize every inch of your body until I can make you come in my sleep."

She responded to his voice with a delighted shiver before his hands snagged her hips in his rough grasp. His fingers dug into her hips, leaving small crescent moon indentions from his nails in her pale skin. Meeting her eager hips, he rolled his own forward swiftly, sheathing himself entirely. Stretching and brushing against sensitive nerve endings Adelaide felt as if she was going mad. Everything burned, and the room felt stifling hot. Everything about him intoxicated her, from his smell to his looming presence, his dress shirt becoming undone somewhere along the way to show off his chest.

While she hissed, he groaned; the skin on skin stood as its own silent confession between the two. Hugo didn't pause or falter, but rather kept his word; his thrusts were rough but somehow calculated, with every push sending him deeper. His hands gripped Adelaide's tightly above her head as he drove forward, dominating her small form completely.

Adelaide could barely take it, he was too good. Every movement he made had a purpose; every rough thrust were lined to hit something new, something unexplored that made her cry out his name like some fucked up song.

With Hugo mouth beside her ear his hot breath lulled her closer to euphoria while growling out the most sensual things she had ever heard. Dark thoughts, possessive mantras on how she was his; no other man could ever have her, after this no other man would be able to satisfy her ever again.

She obliged happily, submitting to his words as she rose to meet him. Adelaide could only groan in awe as his hips rolled into hers. He moved in such an experienced and fluid way it made her unable to think of anything past the edge of the bed.

"Oh, God," her voice was neigh while her form was nothing but a weak mass of flesh, her head leaning back with eyes closed.

"Louder," Hugo growled against her throat as his teeth drug into the skin while his rhythm shifting into deeper, longer thrusts. The sudden change sent her to a whole new level of euphoria, her mind in a pleasurable haze as she called out like a Greek siren of myth.

"Y-yes," Adelaide's voice cracked under the weight as one of his hands gripped tightly her thigh, hoisting her higher and higher…and oh, wow. Coupled with a quick twist of his own hips, he hit something Adelaide hadn't even known existed.

So far gone, she couldn't even feel the fabric of his SS uniform chaff against the skin of her thighs. Her heart was beating erratically loudly in her ears making Adelaide's own moan sound dulled, if muted. Groaning Hugo murmured something darkly in German before stealing her already bruised lips. Within seconds something deep within her pulsed and while Adelaide hadn't been sure if it was him or her, she didn't really care until he slowed, dragging her back and forcing her to feel empty and strangled. Flushed and breathing heavy, she didn't even try to contain the whimper that escaped her throat. Before she could regain any sense of coherency however, he increased his tempo. With on hand grasping her leg up against his should and the other planted firmly against the bedding between her neck and should as an anchor.

"_Look. At. Me._" Hugo rumbled as his hands turned her face upwards him carelessly. His fingers digging into her skin so hard at the corner of her jaw Adelaide saw stars.

His eyes seemed almost black in the dim room while his mouth twisted into an animalistic snarl, like a hunter on its prey. In any other time she would have been scared, but in the heat that passed between them, his look only served to make her on everything it once, it sent her mad: the weight of his hips against her own, the rhythm he had set, the feel of his hands against her form and the way the sweat in the dim light gave him an eerie glow. Almost like an Adonis of Greek myth.

Even though she was shaking with muscles straining she refused to break their eye contact. Staring at him with such intensity her lower-half burned chaotically as something raked across her senses. The tide swells, turning and churning steady like a gather storm. Every nerve is alive with every sense locked on to only him and how she would never wish it any other way. She is so close, so very close and Hugo knew it.

"_So nah, so nah._" (So close, so close) He ground out through clenched teeth, his strong jaw set hard as his eyes spurred to life, entangled the woman below him like a fly caught in a spider's web. And perhaps she was, a Persian in bed with a German officer. "Eins mehr, eins mehr," (One more, one more) He repeated darkly to himself, while a fiery determination fixed in his gaze. Adelaide could only release a sharp gasp as he dropped her leg to hold her in a more intimate position while he drove on. Coupled with his unmoving gaze, it more than did the trick.

Moments passed while her legs still gripped around his waist tightly, trying desperately to suppress the tremors that surged through her. Left breathless and straining beneath him her entire form tensed around him with him soon following, his teeth burying themselves into the side of her neck, adding to the collection he had left previously. As Hugo's hips slowed to a stop, his teeth slid from their place in her neck allowing himself to lull against Adelaide's body, breathing heavily her legs slipping from his grasp.

For a long while, he remained slumped against her flushed form, his head cradled between her neck and collar bone. He shifted, choosing instead to move beside her as his right hand dug into the pants of his uniform to pull out a cigarette and lighter. As the chill of the dark room hit her, the lust that once clouded her mind quickly cleared like fog. What she had felt before, something akin to uncontrollable need, had been replaced with a deeply sewn fear that dropped like a stone in the bottom of her stomach as she watch him take a drag of the tobacco.

There was somewhat of an uncomfortable silence between the two before her thoughts were broken by his silent offer of the same cigarette he had just taken a few drags from. Blushing her somewhat shaking hands took the offered stick easily, inhaling the poison deeply as she allowed her head to fall back on the worn headboard.

As it stood, maybe it hadn't been such a mistake to fall into Oberfeldwebel Stiglitz's web after all.

_FIN._


	3. Chapter 03: Dieter

**Authorial Note(s)**: It's been awhile since I've updated, school has been murder and I'm transferring universities but after a few months here's Hellstrom. It's really only the first part because for some reason Dieter's chapter is nearly eleven pages, and while I might find time to finish the second part, I'm rather trying to concentrate on my chapter-length story_ Bomb In a Birdcage_. Anyway, read, enjoy and review.

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**The Rites of Spring  
Title: **_A Wolf At The Door_ (I/II)**  
Length**: 5 pages, 2186 words.  
**Characters**: Dieter Hellstrom / Original Female

The cool bedroom of the moderate-classed apartment starkly contrasted the steamy bathroom thanks to the open window allowing the crisp Munich air in. Goosebumps broke out across bare skin causing Amelia Wickham to shiver, physically as well as vocally, lip quivering as she slunk from the bathroom. The room was dimly light as she wrapped herself in a smooth silken robe as if it had become her protective shield against the chill. The sudden temperature drop probably wouldn't have been so extreme had she not carried the preference for scalding hot showers – so much to the point that anyone else might have complained about burning their skin. Quickly her thirst led her into the down stair's kitchen to create a warm cup of tea. After taking a small sip she allowed herself to lean back against the counter, somewhat relaxed. Her parched throat now refreshed – for the time being – Amelia allowed her mind to wander.

It was somewhat amazing how the past could rush back in such a startling way. It was even more amazing – and possibly annoying – was as much as she tried to focus her thoughts on other things; the more her thoughts persisted to think back. It would have been a lie to say that her thoughts had never wandered to Major Dieter Hellstrom after what they had shared. As matter of face, she had thought of him from time to time, despite trying not to after their parting. At first, a few days after she had slept with him, Amelia had to endure a barrage of different emotions. She had been mortified with herself, ashamed – there had been a whole spectrum of emotion, some she still couldn't even name. It had been a miracle or sheer dumb luck she hadn't gotten pregnant. After that initial shock, she had fallen into a lull of sadness, trying to adjust to the knowledge that she wasn't an innocent anymore, the feeling of being less of a child and less naive weighing heavily.

Somewhere along the lines of her musing she stopped drinking her tea, the cup posed against her lips. Just as she was about to set the cup aside for the time being her movements were interrupted by an unexpected knocking on the front door. The rhythmic sound startled her, causing the drink to spill as she rushed off toward the door. As she stalked down the short amber light hallway she wonder who her surprise visitor might've been; no one was inclined to visit her. As she made her way to door, Amelia unlocked the deadbolt and locks to slowly crack the door open half way. It was when she snuck a peek through the crack that the sight before her was enough reason to either slam the door. Though she fought the urge Amelia's eyes widened slightly as she swallowed down the lump in her throat.

Before her, on her doorstep stood Major Dieter Hellstrom himself, dressed very much the same way she had met him a year ago. His uniform, a dark shade she couldn't make out, was crisp, neat pressed – like all good soldiers – medals across his chest and nothing out of place. He looked very much like he had when she had first met him a year ago, and his expression was ever as she remembered it. Amelia wasn't sure what sort of mental power she had suddenly developed that allowed her to summon what she had been thinking of, but she made a mental note. Pushing a side her disbelief, she tried to collect her wits as quickly as possible.

"…It is rather rude to just arrive unannounced, don't you think Major Hellstrom?" Amelia questioned, cocking her head against the door. It had seemed she had been unable to keep the words from leaving her lips but found herself unable to regret the comment when he seemed to smirk ever slightly.

"Considering how we crossed paths the last time, I assumed the trend would not be unwelcome."

A small almost-there smile slowly spread across her lips as she nodded somewhat in defeat.

"Touché, Major."

While very curious as to why the Major had suddenly appeared – and how he had found her, given as she was no longer residing in the place she had before her parents' death. Though, it didn't seem that curious, he was an S.S. Major, he could find out anything about anyone if he asked the right people.

"It is rather cold; would you condemn me to stand outside your door all evening?"

His voice was smooth and caused her to flush before slowly stepping aside and allowing him entrance. She was hardly rude enough to make him stand outside her door. He entered quickly, flashing a small smile, his hat under his arm and his leather boots thudding heavily against the bare hardwood floors.

"Tell me Amelia, do you always allow uninvited guests into your home? I very well could use this to my advantage."

"Of course not Major, though I had assumed it must have been important to arrive unannounced."

As the two fell silent in the hall, Hellstrom took the time to take her in, noting some of the subtle ways she had changed. Her blond hair had grown longer, seeming to be almost mid-way to her back with her bangs framing her face. She was taller as well, although not by much but able to reach the top of his own chest. He was also quite certain that beneath the loosely wrapped robe she wore, she was naked; her hair slightly damp, making it obvious that she had only recently finished a shower. Dieter Hellstrom had no doubt that she would be more than merely pretty, as he had been content to define her before, no that assessment was tossed out the window as he look her over. There was no fluke to the attraction that lingered over him; he was dead set on heaving her, just as he had a year ago. It was only slightly more than startling to be before her and already have the need, the compulsion to pull her to him, to unveil all the things she kept hidden.

"How did you find me? Why did you bother to find me?"

"Is that really so important? I am a S.S. Major; I believe I could find one woman in this city quite easily, don't you think so?"

"That doesn't answer why," Amelia noted as confusion and curiosity laced her words, "Though perhaps it will take a long explanation? You can take a seat in the study," she commented, pointing to her left, "I will need to change."

She had barely made it three paces pass him toward the staircase when his hand was on her wrist. The sudden and very startling movement made her whirl around on him, her surprise clear across her face and perhaps, her discomfort as well. Amelia's eyes quickly darted down to the hand that clutched her wrist before skimming back up to look upon the face of its owner, trying to discern anything from his dark eyes.

"If you're concerned that the way you're dressed offends or make me uncomfortable, then you don't need to worry. If memory serves, I've seen you in much less."

Blushing at his words, she hadn't quite expected that he would mention their affair with such ease. She pulled lightly against his hold, though his grip remained firm. Realizing quite suddenly that he had no intention of releasing her, it was easy to connect the dots as to why he had come. Amelia's expression became even as she gazed upon him, trying to reading something, anything on his face that would give her a clue. She wasn't surprised at all when she found none.

"Why did you come here, Dieter?"

At the sound of his first name, Hellstrom reached out and took a hold of her other wrist. Using that leverage to pull her closer, he was only content when he felt her hands against his chest as moved his hands to her shoulders. Her hands sandwiched between their bodies was a very familiar pose, and despite having grown since their last meeting, Amelia still had to crane her neck to meet his face, expression even, as unchanged as his. She had learned.

"Because I wanted to."

Both knew there would be no more discussion of that topic; He had his secrets and they were not meant to be shared. What point was there in trying to draw them out when he was good as keeping them hidden from the rest of the world? As much as Amelia wanted to know, she had her own ideas and, for the most part, it was all she needed. Hellstrom had wanted to see how she had changed – if any – he had wanted to know if she had moved on since him, as he had. He wanted her, period, even though he should have had his fill a year ago. She wasn't privy to these things but as he watched her soft face, he could see the understanding lighting up in her eyes. She knew what his intentions had been for stopping by unannounced. Hellstrom wouldn't continue to boggle over the mystery of what it was that drew him to crave her, not when he was intent to just give in and enjoy what he'd only been able to have once before.

Of course, Dieter Hellstrom was never a man to deny himself anything.

"What makes you think I'm interested in anything from you now, Major?"

Dieter's smirk grew slightly wider as Amelia spoke. It was true; he did admire her spark and found her attempt to be unenthusiastic somewhat amusing. He chuckled low in his throat and she could feel the reverberation against her hands that lay on his chest.

"If that were true, Fraulein Wickham, you have made me leave by now, wouldn't you?"

She pressed her lips together, holding her breath as he slid an arm around her waist, pulling her even closer to the hardness of his body. There was a tug on the collar of her rob as his head lowered, mouth dragging faintly along the shoulder that had been exposed. His teeth scrapped along her skin before taking a harsh nip at the junction where her throat met her shoulder. At the sharp pain Amelia gripped his forearm as her held tilted back, wordlessly showing acceptance. The rough suction that lingered on her skin was brief, though hard enough to leave various degrees of marks, and she could feel his warm breath against her skin, heard him inhaling deeply through his nose.

She smelled fresh, and instantly it reminded Dieter of the spring rain where he grew up. He wanted to positively devour her – and at that thought, he sincerely doubted she would mind at all.

Quite suddenly he released her, turning her body around in a whirl of motion before pushing her forward until her hands met a wall. Feeling his body pressed completely against her back, Amelia fringed a questioning glance over her should, fingers curling as she waited for his intentions to become more obvious. It was with a startled gasp that one of his still leather-clad hand moved inside her robe, finger sprawling across her collarbone before moving down to her chest. His chin touched her shoulder as his teeth found her earlobe, Amelia, with eyes closed, titled her head back instinctually to let him lavish more attention on the soft skin. It was, again, another reflexive response when she attempted to close her legs around his wrist, the coolness of the leather encasing his palm felt odd against her.

"You're blushing, Amelia. Why so shy when I've already been here once before?"

"I'm not some common place whore, _Dieter_," she spat back, unable to look back at him anymore as the blush grew even darker.

He rather like that she was still somewhat timid. The redness of her neck made his marks stand out even more and made her look even more vibrant. The heat of her could be felt, even though the gloves her wore, and he knew she was more than ready. Hellstrom was more than happy that she wouldn't rebuff his advanced; particularly when he was already so ready to take her it was agonizing. His clothing wouldn't be on him for very long, and if things went his way, neither would hers.

"Take me to your room, Amelia," he murmured in to the sensitive shell of her ear. "Unless you want to me to fuck you right against this very wall."

_TBC._


End file.
